Good to The Last Drop
by allcanadiangal
Summary: Rory is the lovable blue-eyed beauty, the sole pride of Star Hollow. Jess is the distant, rebellious, bad boy, the fear and despise of Star Hollow. Who can say, but opposites DO attract.
1. The Roadmap to Love

"Are we there yet?" Shannon questioned for the hundredth time, cookie crumbs spraying from her mouth.  
  
"No, sunshine, not yet. We'll be there soon," Rory cooed, her finely manicured nails drumming on the vinyl steering wheel. Slowing the minivan to a stop in front of a red light, Rory turned around to see her best friend dabbing at Shannon's mouth with a washcloth, and making odd faces while doing so. "Yucky, Shannon! Remember Shan-Shan, food goes into your mouth, not on your face. Although uneven makeup is in, I don't think that three-year-olds should be going out looking like Madonna. In fact, I don't think anyone should be going out looking like Madonna. So the moral of the lesson is, put your food in your mouth. Otherwise you'll look like Madonna, and nobody wants that." A very confused three-year-old stared back at her with large, almond-coloured eyes.  
  
"Lane, slow down. You're confusing me, and I am the master of confusion. That's a very bad sign. The only person who can confuse me is: me, my dearest mother, and that old, hairy bus driver who doesn't speak English and collects pink gum wrappers. Think about it. This deprived child sitting next to you only knows how to say, 'Are we there yet', 'mine', 'cookie', and 'Are we there yet'. It's quite simple actually. Three-year-olds are very easily confused. You have to speak in their language." With that, Rory released the clutch, and switching the van to neutral, turned to the wide- eyed toddler. With her expressive eyes bright and her lips curled down in what resembled a three-year-old pout, Rory flung her hands up in the air. "Cookie go in mouth. Bad Shan-Shan if cookie not go in mouth. All dirty. Rory not like dirty. So cookie go in mouth." Rory finished, bowing dramatically. Lane cocked an eyebrow in confusion, and then watched amazed, as Shannon carefully placed a cookie in Rory's upturned palm. 'Cookie go in mouth," Shannon carefully announced.  
  
"Yay, Shannon!" Rory nodded enthusiastically, sticking her tongue out at Lane like a spoiled preschooler, and then turning back to the wheel. "It was the caveman talk that did it," Lane complained, picking bits of cookie from her sweater. "You were always a sore loser, Lane. Face it. I beat you at your own game. With your own cousin," Rory easily shot back, smoothing out her silky camel-coloured hair. But Rory's high spirits dampened suddenly, like a rained out picnic. "What's the matter, Wowry?" A concerned Shannon asked from the backseat, clutching at her cookie tin. Rory bit on her lower lip, and attempted to give a sheepish smile. "You don't know where the day care is, do you, Lane?" Rory asked, embarrassed. She couldn't bring herself to meet Lane's laughing, fudge brown eyes.  
  
"Actually, no," Lane admitted through the tears of laughter. Seeing Rory's downcast face, Lane flicked her raven-coloured braid over her shoulder like a whip. "Although you could ask that guy by Luke's diner. I think he would know," Lane helpfully supplied, gesturing to a silhouetted figure swaggering over to the door of Luke's Diner. Taking a sip of lukewarm coffee, Rory rolled down her window, pulling the small cherry red minivan in front of the dimly lit café. "Hey!" Rory called softly, still swallowing the remains of her caffeinated drink. The dark-haired boy looked over his shoulder, and then trudged up to the van. He couldn't help but feel the tiny flutter in his chest when his saw the beautiful, blue-eyed angel sitting in the driver's seat. "Do you need directions, or something?" Jess asked, trying his best to act annoyed but failing miserably. "Actually, yeah..." Rory trailed off, a little bit embarrassed, and a little bit afraid of the teen, who looked her up and down and showed such an attitude of indifference that she might as well have been an annoying fly.  
  
"Um, do you know the directions to the day care centre?" Rory asked, flustered, twirling a lock of glossy nutmeg brown hair around her index finger. "I have to drop off my best friend's cousin, so don't think I'm a slut or something, because I do not have any children..." Rory was cut off by Jess's lips on hers. His lips were soft and cool under hers, and she almost whimpered when Jess pulled away. Fingering Rory's heart-shaped face, Jess grinned at the startled expression on her face. "Just go down that street, past the first light, and then turn immediately to your left," he finally replied, dropping his hand from her face. With a smug smile on his face, he swaggered away, and the door to the diner clanged shut behind him.  
  
"Who is he?" Rory breathed, her fingers touching her lips, where he had kissed her only moments before. Those eyes, a shade of rich brown, mixed with a hazy green made her heart melt into a puddle of goo. Taking a shaky breath, Rory slowly exhaled, and backed the minivan into reverse. "For the first time, Rory Gilmore at a loss for words," Lane spoke in a deep reporter's voice into her bottle of Sprite. "Who is this tall, dark stranger who kisses girls and then answers them? Could he be the president's son? No, he doesn't have bad hair. Oh no! Maybe the president's family has found a strange substance called a comb! Wow, viewers, this sure is breaking news. A president with good hair? Now, that would be something, alright," Lane eased back to her normal voice, only to be bombarded with Rory's empty coffee cup. "Really, Lane. Do you know him?" Rory asked, reapplying her lipstick in the rear view mirror. "Actually, I do. Adam was talking about him. He said that there was a new kid in town named Jess Mariano. He's Luke Danes' nephew. Apparently, he got kicked out of his town, and Luke was the only place to go to. The tall, dark, rebellious type."  
  
"Jess, huh?" Rory loved the way it sounded on her lips. It sounded like syrup dripping from a honeycomb. "Jess. I could get used to that." 


	2. Coffee and Love

Rory's nimble fingers expertly weaved her shimmering fawn-coloured hair into a simple French braid, and tucked the remaining strands behind her ear. Scrutinizing her reflection in the heart-shaped mirror, she twisted off the lid of her eyeliner pencil, and then carefully outlined the black colour around her sapphire blue eyes. Opening a jar of ruby-coloured lip- gloss, Rory smoothed out the balm over her silky lips, and then dabbed at her mouth with a crumpled Kleenex.  
  
Lorelai stumbled into the room, clad only in a black bra and a pair of undersized floral print pyjama pants. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, Lorelai stopped dead in her tracks. "I thought you were going out for coffee, my dearest daughter, whom I truly adore and admire."  
  
Rory raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Not buying it, my beloved mother, who I am undoubtedly devoted to in soul, mind and coffee-soaked heart." Rory continued to brush at her cheeks with powdered blush.  
  
"Ooh, I liked the last bit. Very original," Lorelai patted her daughter's head affectionately, obviously proud.  
  
"I thought so too. And, um, mom? Why are you wearing the pants that I outgrew when I was thirteen?" Rory asked, gesturing to the body-hugging flannel pants.  
  
Lorelai squinted at the brightly coloured material. "I thought it was a little small. I just saw it lying around, my dearest daughter, so I wore it. Kinda hip, though. Reminds me of my younger years, dontcha think?" Lorelai modeled the skin-tight bottoms, admiring herself.  
  
"By lying around, do you mean all folded up neatly in the bottom of a Goodwill bag? I put it there four years ago, and I never got to dropping it off. You think four years is too much procrastinating?" Rory asked, tapping her bottom lip, pondering her question.  
  
"Ooh, don't use big words around your mother, Ror. It's seven o'clock in the morning, and when Lorelai gets wound up, she's a very bad girl. Uh, I might have poked around in a big white bag, yeah. But it was washday, so I have a pretty good excuse. And I think four years is too much pro-thingee- thingee for anything, expect getting married, having children, and doing the laundry, my dearest daughter, who I utterly love and will cherish until the day I die." Lorelai rattled off in one long breath.  
  
"Right mom. And you can drop the act. I am going out for coffee, and yes, I'll grab you a pot. So chill. And wear a top of some sort. You're giving the neighbours a very startling peep show." Rory motioned to the open blinds.  
  
Lorelai looked down at her bra. "You don't think my boobs are ugly, do you? I though they were perfectly fine. Why won't the neighbours like looking at my boobs?" Lorelai whined, stamping her foot like a little kid.  
  
"Your boobs are fine," Rory soothed, nonetheless flicking the blinds shut. "Perfectly fine boobs. In fact, I don't think I've seen any boobs finer than those. Excellent boobs. The boobs of a true woman," Rory insisted, thumbing through her closet in search of the perfect outfit.  
  
Lorelai, now comforted, eyed her daughter suspiciously. "Why are you all dressed up to go for a cup of coffee? Are you going to hit on Luke, or something, Rory? Cause, I'll have you know, that I don't have any feelings for him, so don't get all excited, but isn't kind of old, I mean he's as old as me, but that doesn't mean that he would be the perfect match or that I like him, by any means, and he's kinda too tall, dontcha think, even though he's as tall as me means nothing, it's not like we're meant to be or anything..." Lorelai babbled, her cheeks as red as a bowl of fresh strawberries.  
  
While Lorelai incessantly rambled on, Rory had already changed into a pair of low slung, tightly fitting flared jeans, and a cute dark red baby tee shirt with a ruffled hem, topped by a knit red cardigan with flared sleeves. Leaving the cardigan unbuttoned, Rory inspected her hair in the mirror, and after a few minutes of careful scrutiny, undid her hair, so that it fell against her face in glossy waves, and with a flip of her sleek hair, smiled at the reflection of the girl in the mirror. She looked absolutely beautiful, with her buff-coloured hair framing her face with attractive whorls, and her dark blue eyes outlined with coal coloured eyeliner, her lashes darkened with mascara, her full lips glistening with gloss, and her cheeks reddened with blush. But through all of the makeup, anyone could see that she wasn't trying to be anyone she wasn't, her natural beauty still shone through.  
  
Slipping her purse into her jeans' pocket, she kissed her rambling mother on the head, and skipped out the door. There were two things she could always count on: coffee, and love. And today, she was on a quest for both. Perhaps she would find them in the quaint diner down the block, which held a mysterious, dark-haired boy, and pots of steaming, freshly brewed coffee. 


	3. Sopping Wet and Coffee Deprived

Pulling the crocheted cardigan closer around her shivering body, Rory strode along the sidewalk with a short, brisk face. Careful not to smudge her carefully applied makeup, she tucked wayward strands of looping hair behind her ear. A bitter wind shrieked through the quiet town, and Rory silently cursed herself for not wearing a light jacket. Now jogging down the vacant sidewalk, or as much jogging as she could do with her platform sandals, Rory hugged her body, trying to contain some warmth. As she was limping, she spotted a small black compact car whooshing by, spraying murky rainwater all over her brand new clothes. Shivering violently in the intense cold, with her sopping clothes plastered to her curved figure, Rory slowly hobbled to a nearby bench, already feeling blisters sprouting from the soles of her feet.  
  
As she was seating herself down on the bright orange bench, the deafening of a roaring motor filled her ears. Slowing to a stop, the rider of the flashy silver and black motorcycle bike lifted off his black helmet. Jess couldn't help but feel a slight twitching in his pants at the sight of the angelic girl in front of him, with her skimpy clothes clinging to her body like a second skin, her luscious tresses plastered to her small face, and her silky lips turned down to a pout. Rory's frown deepened as she recognized whom her knight in shining armour was. Jess. Although Rory could feel her heart melt at the sight of him in a pair of baggy dark blue jeans, a tight-fitting white tank top, and a black leather jacket, Rory wasn't going to play the little naïve angel. She was going to give him a taste of his own medicine.  
  
Crossing her arms under her sloping breasts, Rory's eyebrows knit together in a scowl. "It's you again. Jess, right? Well, I'll have you know that you can't play me around like a marionette, pulling the strings whenever you please. I'm not totally naïve and unknowing, and I won't have you just thinking that you can shove your lips on mine and that you can just leave. I'm not like that, and I'm not going to play any of your little games," Rory huffed, her face bright red, and her hands flailing in the air like she was about to drown.  
  
"So you won't accept my offer to drive you to the diner and get you a cup of coffee?" Jess asked, licking his lips at the sight of the drenched goddess in front of him. Her nipples were hard and erect from the cold, and were showing through the skimpy material of her top.  
  
Rory took a step closer, her breath hot on Jess's neck. "I never said that I didn't like the kiss. All I said was that you can't just kiss me, and then leave. I need to return the favour." And with that, Rory cupped Jess's chin in her hands and dove down to capture his lips with hers. Tracing his lower lip with her tongue, Rory probed at the tiny partition of his lips like a mosquito sawing through skin to get its blood, and then battled with his tongue for dominance. Back and forth, back and forth, one never losing, one never winning. Memorizing every inch of his mouth, Rory slowly pulled away. Jess was panting heavily, and his cheeks were flushed a bright pink.  
  
"Well, what are you staring at me for? Didn't you say you were going to buy me a cup of coffee?"  
  
A/N: Hey, peeps! I love you all, thank you, thank you, thank you for reviewing. I'd give you all cookies if I had them. Right now though, I need a favour. I need to get a couple of new characters into the story, and I need your help! You can star in my story, all I need is a brief description of you (hair colour, eye colour, height, weight, age, clothing style) your personality, and who you think you should be in the story (Jess's aunt, Rory's cousin, Luke's girlfriend, Lorelai's sister... etc) I don't know! But if you do this, it'll help a lot. I promise that if I get at least 3 different entries, I'll submit one of them into my story in the next chapter. I'll add more of you peeps as the chapters go on. Keep those descriptions coming! Later, and I love you all. (Kisses) 


	4. Hot Pink Bras and Heart Print Boxers Sta...

Cradling a lukewarm cup of coffee, Rory sat cross-legged on Jess's twin bed and stared, mesmerized at Jess's rear as he searched through his closet for some dry clothes for Rory to wear. Licking her parched lips, Rory slowly brought the mug to her mouth, her eyes never leaving Jess's bottom. As Jess straightened up, Rory's gaze quickly diverted to a large Metallica poster plastered over his bed. Jess placed a rumpled dark blue football jersey and a pair of faded oversized blue jeans in Rory's lap, smirking sheepishly. "It's all I've got that faintly resembles female clothing. Hey, at least the seams are all intact."  
  
Setting the coffee cup down at the foot of his bed, careful not to leave a coffee ring, Rory modeled the huge pants. The waistline could have fit into her slim hips 4 times. But seeing no other way out, and also seeing that Jess was pointedly ignoring her, bracing himself for the string of complaints that would come flying out by sticking his head behind a thick novel, Rory sighed and kicked Jess in the shins.  
  
"Ow! What was that for?" Jess griped, dropping the book to the rug-covered floor and hopping up and down on one foot while clutching at his other one. "Just be thankful that I didn't beat you in other places, places which you will probably need later on. You're a very small, small man," Rory saucily retorted, casting a cheeky glance at his fly.  
  
"I am not small!" Jess retorted, stamping his foot, and then wincing, and then stamping his other, uninjured foot. His hands were stuck on his hips like a spoiled toddler, and his lower lip was pulled down into a two-year- old pout. "Of course," Rory soothed, patting his dark hair, "Of course. I'm sure you're perfectly fine." Rory's eyes fell on his partly open closet. A bright pink bra dangled out, its strap hooked onto the door handle. "What are you doing with a hot pink bra in your closet? I knew you were kind of odd, but this is just wrong," Rory teased, untangling the cherry coloured scrap of silk and swinging it in front of Jess's equally cherry coloured face. "It was my ex-girlfriend's. S-s-she was d-d-doing l-l-laundry at my p- p-place. R-r-really!" Jess stammered, snatching it out of Rory's small hands.  
  
"Of course I believe you. That accounts for the neatly folded lavender satin underwear, the cute white tank top, the butterfly-print sequined sweatshirt, and the tiny flared blue jeans. And since you have no washer in this place to do your laundry, she just happened to take off her clothes, and then they flew over here with a cute little card saying to put them in the dishwasher." Rory amended, pulling out the rest of the clothes. Jess held up his hands in defeat, backing away from Rory. "Fine! Wear them! But please don't say anything to my Uncle Luke! Even though I really don't care about him, he'll kick me out of this town, and I'll have nowhere else to go but my Gram's, and I'll have to drink watered-down chicken soup and cups of tea everyday and wear a frilly bonnet and matching apron," Jess pleaded, going down to the ground and kissing the tips of her flowered toes.  
  
"You know, I love seeing you so vulnerable. It's really revitalizing. Fine," she softened, clutching Jess's arm and bringing him to his feet. "I won't utter a word. But, you have to definitely pay me back. You owe me, big time," Rory tried her best to give an evil grin, but failing miserably. Jess smiled gratefully, and leaned forward for a kiss. "Uh-uh-uh!" Rory scolded wagging a finger in front of Jess's startled face. "You forgot, I'm pulling the strings here. And I say, no smoochies until I find out what the name Jess stands for, and what did you do to get landed in this town, anyway." Rory admonished, seating herself back on the groaning mattress.  
  
At that exact moment, a petite, auburn-haired teenager barged through the glass-paned door. "Saved by the redheaded cheerleader crashing through the door!" Jess teased, grinning as the petite, auburn-haired teenager leaped into his outstretched arms. "Jayde!" He exclaimed, hugging her loosely. "Jayde Ironside. What in Harley Davidson's name are you doing in Stars Hollow?" He asked, holding her at arm's length. The green-eyed beauty giggled and shrugged, doing a little dance in front of the window. "I was kind of on a crazy, caffeine fiend one day, and I happened to jump up on the roof and do the hula in my heart-print boxers and bra. Was it my fault that I was singing at the top of my lungs and it was 1:30 in the morning? Anyways, good ol' Gramps threw me out, and I landed up here, in Stars Hollow. I'm living with my older sister about 1 block back. I recognized Luke, from all the pictures you showed me, and I asked him where you were. He said you were up here with some beautiful, Cinderella-type whom you were trying to hit on, so I raced up here the first chance I got. I might have tackled a very startled maid, I think her name was Cookie or Sookie or something. Anyways, hi!" Jayde babbled, bouncing up and down and flipping her hands in the air.  
  
"Does this bra belong to you?" Rory interrupted, holding up the offending piece of clothing. Jayde took one look at the bra and one look at Rory, and quickly, fiercely, shook 'no'. "I never, ever, ever wear bright pink. It's horrendous on redheads. I only wear the cute flowered kind you find in the clearance rack. They're really comfy, and they don't pinch on the straps. You can get them at K-Mart." Jess quickly cut her off, his hands up in the air. "More than we need to know," he quickly countered, neck bright red. "Rory, this is Jayde, Jayde, this is Rory. Rory's a girl I met, who's a really good kisser, and Jayde's my best friend from New York. Say 'hi' everybody!" His voice notched up an octave in his embarrassment.  
  
"Since this bra doesn't belong to you, you sound as coffee-oriented as me, and you sound about as nuts as me, I think we'll get along fine," Rory smiled, shaking the peppy redhead's hand. Greenish-gold eyes twinkling, Jayde agreed, "Yupseroo! I totally agree. And I think that we'll be seeing more of each other, the way that Jess is checking you out!" Jayde giggled, and did another little dance.  
  
A/N: Do not despair, oh little ones! Thou shalt also be included in thine story! (Sorry, in a Shakespearean mode there) Thank you coffeechick87, and I hope you like this chappy. All you others, don't fret, I'm still adding new peeps, so hold onto your boxers. Keep those reviews coming! I'll try to update tomorrow, but I have a huge test. Oh, woe is me! Cheerio, peeps! 


	5. God Bless America and Plaid Boxers

"Ohmigosh! You DID not just jump on top of Luke's Chevy and shriek 'God Bless America' while waving a Canadian flag and Jess's boxer shorts," Rory shook her head violently to erase the grotesque memory.  
  
Jayde grinned sheepishly, scuffing her canvas sneakers on the tiled floor. "Hey, I wasn't that loud," she muttered under her breath, smoothing out the red and white flag she had been flailing with all of her cheerleading might.  
  
"You weren't loud? For Christ's sake, you were screaming like it was the end of the world, and you were bouncing up and down like you were at a somersaulting competition," Rory shook her head again, dumping a stack of soiled dishes into the sink, and dried her hands on the frayed red-striped dishcloth that hung from a wooden rod on the stove.  
  
Jayde jutted an elbow into Rory's side, whispering quickly into Rory's ear, "Here comes Luke, Ror. Be a pal and try to act extra nice, and mention the tiny dent I made in his door, but don't say it too harshly," she pleaded, her lower lip puffed up in a pout.  
  
Rory inhaled a large mug of coffee, and then set the dirty cup on the Formica countertop, her polished fingertips scratching the smooth surface. "Fine," Rory hissed, "but only because you make extra good coffee, you're nuts, and if I say no you'll probably shriek in my ear and do that little dance that drives me crazy," Rory sighed.  
  
"Yes. The fried beluga dance," Jayde nodded solemnly, wiping off the countertop. Rory rolled her eyes and wiped her hands on the pair of jeans she had rescued from the back of Jess's closet. He had sworn he had washed them recently, but Rory had a bad feeling in her gut, that and the weird sensation that something was crawling up her leg.  
  
Luke inspected the work the two of them had done, and then tipped the bill of his baseball cap to them. "Wow ladies, you two did a wonderful job. Must have been the three jumbo bags of instant coffee mix I geared you up with," Luke shook his head, seeing the empty wrappers neatly thrown into the wastebasket, along with packets of sugar and cream containers. "There goes one month's salary." Turning to Rory, he cocked an eyebrow. "How does that mother of yours feed the two of you? You two are like coffee vacuum cleaners, except without those weird disposable bags," shaking his head, he straightened the tilted dishrag and started sorting the polished plates and silvery.  
  
Rory pasted on a huge, phoney smile. "Well, we could never do it without you, oh great Luke. Without your great quantity of coffee, which we chug down every morning, how shalt we be the true, authentic Gilmores? What shalt the world do without the two, lovable caffeine lovers? Shalt the world die down to a sickly place where everyone wears red jeans and says 'yo'? Never! We shalt not let that happen! So, by your vast stone of coffee, you save the world. The saver of the world. Luke Danes. Coffee man." Rory finished, bowing with a flourish.  
  
Luke blinked. Still keeping the fake smile plastered on her face, she muttered through her teeth, "Do you think I'm laying the icing on too thick?"  
  
"Just a notch," Jayde nodded, wincing slightly at the suspicious look Luke was giving both of them.  
  
"The world would be a lot let confusing, that's for sure. Okay. Which one of you got arrested, stuck gum on the inside of my jeans, or snuck a rubber snake into my bed?" He asked, throwing the dishcloth he was clutching over his shoulder. It landed neatly in a pale blue basin.  
  
Jayde cleared her throat, a forced smile on her lips. "Heh. It was all real funny, you see. Heh. Um... your hair looks mighty nice today, Luke," she faltered, trying, and failing, to look angelic. Running his hands self- consciously through his brown-sugar coloured hair, probably to make sure that no chewed gum was stuck into it. "Get to the point, Jayde."  
  
"Heh. Uh... you see, I was jumping up and down and waving a Canadian flagpole with Jess's boxers strung up on them while singing 'God Bless America', and I might have made a small scratch on the door," she mumbled into her tee shirt.  
  
"That's all," Luke prodded, slamming the handle of a mop down on the floor like a metre stick used by a teacher.  
  
"It might have been a little more than a scratch. Maybe a small dent, the one a tiny red ant would make." Jayde appeared eager to smooth this out and get it over with.  
  
"That's all," Luke grinded the handle of the mop into the ground further, making a low grating squeal.  
  
"It looks like an oompa foompa sat on it, Luke," Rory admitted, shaking her head solemnly, like Jayde had done just moments before.  
  
"A mother elephant," Jayde translated, eyes stuck on the pattered floor, as if the blue and yellow squiggles were the most interesting things on earth.  
  
Luke eyes narrowed and then narrowed even further when Rory hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder. "Lukee," she crooned, pouting like a little girl, "Lukee pookie, listen here. We'll make a deal. I'll set you up on a not-so-blind date with mommy dearest, aka human coffee vacuum cleaner, if you just go on like this was no big deal. Because you see, Jayde here makes good coffee, and she can scream pretty loud if she wants to. Have you ever seen a cheerleader scream? Exactly. Because if you did, you would be deaf. And you have such perfect little peach ears. To see them go to waste would be a shame, wouldn't it. And I guess we could bring back the old Free- Coffee-on-Saturdays tradition, right Lukee?" Rory was now pacing back and forth in the small kitchen, flailing her arms back and forth like a wounded bird. Luke winced when he remembered what a disaster the Free-Coffee-on-Saturdays tradition had been. Rory and Lorelai had guzzled the twelve jumbo bags he had purchased, all in less than half an hour. And when the Saturdays had worn on, they found that by sleeping on vinyl beach chairs outside of the diner on Friday nights, they'd always be the first to the door to consume what little free coffee he had. Needless to say, he didn't get much profit that year. Shuddering, he felt himself weakening, especially at the thought of a night out with the gorgeous Lorelai Gilmore. Her laughing pale blue eyes, rouged cheeks, sensitive mouth and glossy black curls would make any man melt.  
  
"Fine."  
  
Silence.  
  
Jayde was the first one who screamed jumping up and down, and hugging Luke, and doing cartwheels on the small strip of tile.  
  
Rory took advantage of the opportunity to chug down the remaining brown liquid in the steaming pot of coffee on the stove, and then, in her caffeine-high haze, did a few squeals and jumps of her own.  
  
Seeing Jess out of the corner of her eye, she smiled and waved at him, walking over. His dark hair was mussed, as if he had just woken up, which he had probably just done, because it was six in the morning, and he was wearing his pyjama bottoms and a tight black shirt which accented his toned abs and muscled arms.  
  
Bleary eyed, he leaned in for a kiss, and before Rory could pull away, he had her pinned onto the refrigerator, and was devouring her mouth, hands on either side of her head.  
  
Pushing him aside, Rory frowned. Jess stared at her with a confused look on his face. "What did I do wrong?" He asked, scratching his head, and then moved in for another kiss, but Rory warned him with a raised finger.  
  
Pouring herself a bowl of sugarcoated cereal, Rory glared. "You still haven't told me what the name Jess stands for, and what you did to come here to Stars Hollow," she pouted, tipping the milk jug so that the white liquid seeped over the colourful cereal, seeping through the grain and making it all soggy.  
  
And so, as Rory at her cereal, Jess told her.  
  
A/N: What happened to the descriptions? No one's sending them in! I'm going to have a temper tantrum, and believe me, thirteen-year-old temper tantrums are not a pretty sight. Just joking, but PLEASE send them in. I hope Jayde likes this chappy too! Love you all! 


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